


TOUGH LUCK

by fivu



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gunshot Wounds, Mild Gore, Mild Language, good old fashioned "shit-gone-wrong-during-the-mission"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivu/pseuds/fivu
Summary: Members of the anti-terrorist organization Rainbow Six are called to infiltrate hostile territory and rescue their own teammates in a last-ditch effort to save their lives. However, for Rainbow’s operators Ash, Glaz, and Montagne, this mission is anything but textbook.





	TOUGH LUCK

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy!  
> Expect a follow-up chapter in the future.
> 
> Let me know if there are any issues with anything. Thank you!!! <3

_Your mission is to locate and extract the missing operators within the given building on the border of Iran and Afghanistan. Three Rainbow Six operatives have been reported missing in White Mask territory for approximately twenty-three and a half minutes. Captain Johnson and his team are unable to breach the building and are awaiting further instructions._

**_Number of terrorists:_ ** _Unknown._

 **_MIA:_ ** _Mute, Rook, Jäger._

 **_ETA on extraction team:_ ** _Four minutes._

  


* * *

 

The rhythmic beating of the helicopter’s blades drowned out the noisy chatter from Montagne’s radio. Some of the voices were frantic, others were informative, but at the moment, his mind registered no difference. It was just chatter to the background noise of his thoughts repeating his given mission about his teammates who had been left behind.

 

Ash must’ve noticed his iron grip on the handlebar of the helicopter’s interior, because she patted his heavily armored shoulder and kept her hand there for a moment. He knew what it meant.

 

_It’ll be okay._

 

He turned to her and gave her a reassuring gaze, but she could see right through him. She was difficult to fool. He decided to drop his fake guise and let his shoulders sag.

 

“You know,” She began, speaking loudly into his ear so he could hear her over all the noise around them, “they aren’t going to be very encouraged if you walk in there looking like _that_.” She gave him a smile. He paused.

 

“You’re very right,” He replied, smiling back at her.

 

She moved away from him and settled back into her seat next to Glaz, who was gripping his Dragunov rifle and staring out the window with wide, anxious eyes. Montagne could feel the raw anxiety and uncertainty between all of them like a heavy blanket weighing them all down.

 

He rolled his shoulders and let his shield settle more comfortably on his back, exhaling a deep sigh to settle his nerves, if even just a little.

 

Four minutes became four seconds as the helicopter’s pilot shouted something inaudible at him. He gripped the handlebar tighter and he felt his weight shift as the helicopter slowed to a stop in the air and began its descent. The doors whipped open and a rush of hot, dry air and dust hit Montagne’s face like a wall. He squinted in the bright sun as he quickly scanned the area.

 

It was a tall building, marked with years of graffiti and old bullet holes. Papers were flying from open windows and settling like autumn leaves on the ground. The city spanned miles, but the only thing that Montagne could see moving were other helicopters with mounted turrets surveying the landscape. Abandoned civilian cars and armored trucks clogged the roadways surrounding the building, hiding their landing spot from possible prying eyes from inside the compound.

 

They reached the ground and were given the signal to exit the vehicle. Montagne didn’t take his time, and his boots thudded heavily on the dry earth beneath him. He heard Ash and Glaz approach him from behind, their footsteps coming to a stop as the helicopter lifted from the ground and quickly made its way out of sight. From their radios, a voice emerged.

 

“We’ve lost contact with them for twenty-eight minutes now,” The man’s voice sounded dry. “You’re going to have to find them first before my squad can move in to assist.”

 

“It’ll be done in no time,” Montagne said, giving Ash and Glaz the signal to approach. “But we like to be thorough.”

 

“Well make ‘thorough’ fast, because it’s best for the both of us, Rainbow,” The man growled.

 

“I’ll oblige, but only because you said so nicely,” Montagne said in a voice absent of kindness. He closed the radio link hastily, taking in a deep breath.

 

“Seems like a fun guy to me,” Ash said, sounding almost amused. “That’s Captain Johnson, right? I’m sure he can sit pretty on his ass long enough for us to get our friends to safety.”

 

“I sure hope so,” Glaz muttered. “For his own sake.”

 

They all silently decided to keep quiet now as they entered from different angles. Montagne pulled his shield from his back and shifted his grip on his pistol as he came to a barricaded door. He smacked the butt of it against the wood and created a small opening to the other side. He pressed up against the wall next to the door and held his breath, trying to listen for enemies inside.

 

He waited for a moment, then flipped over to face the doorway, his shield raised and his pistol trained on the hole in the barricade.

 

_Nothing._

 

He kicked the rest of the barricade in and stepped inside, breathing in the dead, dusty air inside the room. It was empty, save for scraps of loose paper and desks strewn about. He spotted blood splatters on the wall and dropped to a low crouch, moving forward slowly.

 

He kept his breathing low and slow, his eyes open and focused, checking every detail of the room, expecting a human figure around every corner.

 

He turned and came to a hallway, quickly ducking into another room adjacent to the one he entered from and heard something liquid dripping from somewhere. He scanned the room and noticed a small stream of blood streaking downwards from the ceiling to the floor, leading to the corpse of a White Mask on the ground nearby.

 

“Kills?” Montagne breathed into his radio.

 

“None,” Ash and Glaz replied in unison.

 

Suddenly, a gunshot. Montagne’s body shot up and moved to cover.

“I didn’t fire that,” Ash said, her voice brimming with concern. Montagne waited for Glaz’s response. None came.

 

“Glaz?” He asked into his radio. Silence. “Glaz, location, _now._ ” Two more gunshots.

 

“Shit. That sounds like his rifle,” Ash said, her voice raising. Then, more gunshots, but at a different pitch. “I’ve got masks inbound, Montange. Top floor, room 40--” She was cut short as more of her gunshots went off. “403-2.”

 

Montagne was already on his feet as soon as he heard her begin firing, but he could only go so fast in a building full of armed terrorists that he didn’t know the location or number of. His heart began to pound in his chest as anxiety gripped at his throat. No matter how much training he had, recently it had been getting harder to keep his heart rate down if he knew a friend was alone and under fire.

 

As he made his way to the top floor, the gunfire kept springing back to life every few moments. Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused, then heard a shout from the room across from him. He saw Ash huddled behind a wall, gripping tightly at a gash in her arm, blood already beginning to soak her sleeve.

 

He clenched his jaw and stood up, extending his shield to full size as he entered the room with her. Her attacker, a heavily armored white mask man, unloaded a full clip into the metal shield. As soon as he was out of ammo, Montagne retracted his shield and lifted his pistol, firing a clean bullet to his forehead. The man’s head snapped backwards as a spray of blood and brain matter splattered on the wall behind him, cutting his shouting short. His body slumped and his gun clattered to the floor.

 

Montange exhaled sharply, turning and moving to Ash, checking her wound, but she was already in the process of wrapping it. Montange reached out to help her but she shook her head, her face twisting in pain as she pulled hard on the last bit of wrapping.  
  
“All good here,” She said, nodding. She looked stable, and there wasn’t a horrible amount of blood on her wound, now that he saw it up close. “Just managed to graze me.”

 

“Don’t push your luck,” Montagne sighed, then helped her to her feet. He opened the radio channel again, noticing that the building had fallen silent again. “Glaz? Speak. _Now.”_ A second of silence passed.

 

“Peeking through a window...” Glaz whispered. “Three masks and a bomber on the second floor, west. No confirmation of hostages...” His voice was shaking ever so slightly.

 

“Take them out if you have a clean shot, Glaz.” Ash said, “We’ll be there to back you up.”

 

Ash and Montagne began moving for the west side of the building as they heard gunshots pierce through the deafening silence. Shouts from the masks came rising up, but they were soon silenced as well. All but one.

 

A two gunshots sounded, but the mechanical breathing of the bomber could still be heard. Montagne felt his stomach lurch as he heard a panicked shout from Glaz and then a loud and heavy explosion from the room over.

 

_“Timur!”_

 

Ash reached the room first, and she scanned the charred and dusty remains of an entire section of the wall and floor of the building. Montagne began to feel dread momentarily but then saw Glaz peek his head slowly from around a corner. His eyes were wide and frightened, as if he had nearly looked death in the eyes.

 

“And _that_ is why we always practice our aim,” He muttered, breathing a long string of swears. Ash let out a shaky sigh and helped him to his feet, staring him in the eye worriedly for a moment before turning away.

 

Montagne allowed them a moment to calm down and try not to think about how one of them had only been _milliseconds_ from death, and then motioned for Ash and Glaz to follow him.

 

They began moving as a unit down the hallways and stairs, searching each room they came across. It was a slow process, but they weren’t deterred. However, to their dismay, they didn’t come across a single white mask for a long while.

 

Suddenly, Ash came to a halt behind them. Montange turned to her and saw her frowning, eyes wandering and her hand pressed to her earpiece.

 

“Do you hear that?” She asked. “Buzzing. Rhythmic, but… Not like normal radio interference.”

 

Montagne listened closer. She was right, there was something there. Small buzzes, like a fly moving past his ear, but in a pattern. Then, Glaz gasped, his eyes lighting up.

 

_“Morse code.”_

 

“This is a secure channel,” Montagne said, listening to the buzzing that kept repeating itself. They all fell silent, listening closely.

 

_4042._

 

“Numbers,” Ash said. She paused. “Wait, maybe a room number?”

 

“Where is room 404-2?” Montange asked.

 

“Uhh…” She closed her eyes, thinking. “Second floor… Security room? We haven’t checked that area of the building yet. Do you think they could possibly…?” She trailed off.

 

“We approach with extreme caution,” Montange interrupted. Glaz and Ash nodded and then they began to move.

 

Montange barely noticed that he was holding his breath for long stretches of time. As they slowly made their way to the security room, he could feel himself running on pure adrenaline.

 

Montange turned a corner and was met by a hail of bullets. Thankfully he still had his shield raised, and he was able to get a glance at their positions.

 

“Left side!” Montange whispered to Ash, who nodded and rounded the corner quickly to land a clean headshot on the masked man. She exhaled a breath and dropped to a crouch, changing magazines.

 

Shouts came from a room down the hallway they had just peeked. Ash fell back behind Montange’s shield as he took point and pushed forward. More bullets rained down as they moved quickly through the hallway, but Glaz’s well aimed bullets found their marks cleanly and precisely.

 

They reached the hallway where they could see the door of room 404-2 and gave each other silent nods, then Montange signaled _‘breach breach breach!’_

 

From a distance, Ash fired off a round from her M120 CREM and they watched as it burrowed into the barricade. A half second passed and it exploded, leaving their ears ringing. Montange pushed forward and entered the room, with Ash and Glaz covering his left and right. He looked around the dimly lit room and his eyes saw dead white masked terrorists in piles _everywhere._

 

Blood painted the walls and the smell of metal and burnt flesh filled the room. Bodies were strewn about on the floor and some were hunched over furniture. Among them was a figure all too familiar.

 

Montange’s heart leaped into his throat as his eyes met Rook’s, whose hands were gripping a terrorist’s gun that was covered in blood. The dust in the room settled for a fleeting moment before Montange rushed to him, dropping to his knees.

 

“We… We thought you weren’t—“ Rook said, his voice shaking.

 

“You’re bold to think we wouldn’t come to rescue you,” Montange replied. He felt a mix of relief and concern as he knew they were alive but he noticed the pool of blood they were sitting in. He helped Rook into a better sitting position and began to try and find the source of the bleeding. Rook cried out in pain as he shifted, his eyes screwing shut as he leaned back against the wall behind him.

 

“You’re going to be okay…” Montange said quietly to him as he looked for where Rook had been injured. “Focus on your breath. Breathe…”

 

It only took a glance. A spray of bullet wounds formed a neat line leading from Rook’s upper left leg to his right hip bone. Montange clenched his jaw and put his fingers on the wounds.

 

“Keep breathing. Focus,” He said, staring at Rook. Rook nodded, his pleading eyes watching his teammate.

 

Montange pressed down, _hard_ , flattening his palm. Rook cried out in agony, throwing his head back. Montange’s stomach lurched, a chill running up his spine. He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t. He turned his head to his teammates.

 

“Find the others!” He called over Rook’s crying. “Ash, signal the captain! Tell him to sweep the building!” Ash nodded and crouched down, speaking quickly into her radio. Glaz holstered his gun and began moving.

 

He searched the room, checking every corner. There were bodies _everywhere._ He nearly tripped over a disembodied arm, which he kicked away from himself in a moment of disgust. As he searched for traces of Mute or Jager, he tried to drown out the sound of Rook’s cries, but it was hard. He knew his nightmares would come to revisit this scene.

 

He shook off the thought and stepped into the room filled with screens. The blue light from them illuminated the dark crimson of the blood that dripped from the walls and floors. His stomach lurched at the smell, something he was only just now becoming aware of. After a moment of searching through the bodies, he looked around and heard something on the opposite side of the counter to him. He pulled out his pistol and vaulted the counter, ready to take out a white mask. However, his eyes met a familiar gas mask with a little _x_ taped on it. He holstered his pistol and crouched down, his eyes searching.

 

“ _Man down!_ ” Glaz called into his radio.

 

Mute was laying on his side, with a strange array of wires haphazardly connected to one of his jamming devices. He was clutching two small wires with the rubber cut off the end of them in his hands. Around him were dead bodies of terrorists. One of them was laying right on top of him, slumped over in an unmoving heap. He was covered in blood, and Glaz didn’t know if it was his or not. He quickly grabbed the dead terrorist and began to push, rolling it off of Mute.

 

Reaching down, he unhooked the mask and pulled it off. He then leaned down and put his ear up to his mouth. He was breathing, but only just, and the pattern was irregular. Glaz checked his pulse, and as he did, Mute stirred. Mute looked at him, his eyes half-lidded, but after a moment his face twisted into fear and his breathing became frantic; short and shallow, like hiccups. He appeared to be trying to speak, but his mouth only made a quiet _ah-ah-ah_ sound.

 

“ _Shh!_ ” Glaz hissed. “Don’t try to speak. Stay calm. I’ve got you.” Glaz turned Mute to where he was flat on his back, and began to unzip his bulletproof vest. However, his fingertips kept losing purchase on the straps due to the copious amounts of blood. Cursing under his breath, he pulled on his rifle and let it fall to the floor, allowing himself to shift his weight and lean down closer to the vest. He dug his nails in and steadied his hands, just like he was used to when holding a gun. He pulled the zipper down and when it reached the bottom, the vest came free and he began to pull it off.

 

Suddenly, Mute’s body seized and his breath stopped short, hitching in his throat. Glaz instantly stopped his movements and carefully let go of the vest. He had only barely lifted it.

 

“Прости _(Sorry)...”_ Glaz murmured, watching as Mute slumped back on the ground, his face twisting in agony.

 

_Is there something caught in the vest?_

 

Glaz’s brow furrowed for a moment, then he pulled off his glove. Obviously he wasn’t going to be able to get the vest off, so he would find where the unseen problem was.

 

“Stay still.” Glaz whispered to Mute as he leaned over him. He carefully slid his hand underneath the vest, slowly tracing his fingertips over the fabric. Suddenly, as his hand came along the left side of Mute’s belly, his nails hitched on something sharp. The cloth around it was warm and wet, and Glaz quickly made a mental note of the spot and pulled his hand away. His fingers were coated in a sheen of new blood.

 

He leaned over and inspected the vest closer and noticed a small rip. Through the rip there was half of a knife’s handle, as if the end of it was broken off. The rest of the knife was underneath the vest and piercing Mute’s skin. He mentally kicked himself for not noticing it.

 

“Ah, now I’ve found your problem.” Glaz muttered mostly to himself. He paused, then turned on his radio. “Ash, what is the ETA on the captain?”

 

“They’ve entered the building,” She said, her voice sounding cold and calm. “Helies are en route. Maybe ten minutes.”

 

“That might not be enough time for Mute. Puncture wound to the chest, having trouble breathing.”

 

“Move him in here. We have to try to hold out,” She paused. “This is our only chance.”

 

Glaz nodded and closed the link, turning back to Mute, who was watching him but he looked barely conscious. Glaz grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard, trying to keep him awake as long as possible.

 

“Just hold on, мой друг _(my friend)_.” He said, his voice softening. “You probably want their help more than mine.” This warranted a sad gaze from Mute that Glaz purposefully avoided while helping him up to move him into the break room, which was adjacent to the security room, with the others.

 

In the break room, Montagne had Rook propped up against a couch while Ash helped him tie bandages to stop the bleeding. Glaz was just relieved that Rook wasn’t screaming anymore, since Montagne was trying to distract him with conversation as the painkillers he gave him did their work.

 

They all looked up as Glaz entered, holding Mute up to help him walk. Rook’s eyes widened and a worried look spread across his features.

 

“Mark--” Rook said weakly as Ash got to her feet and guided them over to the couch, helping Glaz slowly settle Mute down next to Rook. Glaz sat down on his knees next to Montagne and stared at their two wounded teammates. Mute rested his head on Rook’s shoulder, struggling to stay conscious. Rook grabbed Mute’s hand in return and squeezed it, tears welling up into his eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Rook said to Mute, then he turned to Glaz and Monty, “It’s my fault he’s hurt. He trusted me to watch his back, but I--” His voice broke into a sob. “--I messed up. It’s a-all my fault…” Montange placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder.

 

“No, Julien,” The older man said firmly, “Don’t blame yourself. You were in a tough situation. At least you’re both alive, and we intend to bring you _all_ out to safety.” Rook nodded, wiping a tear off his cheek and pushing back a blond curl out of his eye. Monty gave a moment to pause, but then a thought came racing back into his mind. “Where’s Jager?”

 

“He went off on his own,” Rook replied, “You didn’t find him on your way here…?”

 

“No,” Montange said, peering at the ground, “But we can’t move out until the captain has swept the building.” He was starting to get angry at the fact that Jäger would do something so dangerous.

 

“Then we wait,” Glaz chimed in, glancing at Monty. “When we can get these two clear of the building, we go find him.” Montange nodded, peeking at Ash, who also nodded, giving a thumbs-up.

 

“Then it’s a plan.”

  


* * *

 

Five minutes passed, and soon the voice of captain Johnson came roaring through their radios. “I have to say,” He said, “you’ve done a better job than I thought you would, Rainbow.”

 

“We like to make a big entrance,” Ash replied, not sounding at all amused. “We have two men down, one still MIA. There’s a huge mess in here, Johnson.”

 

“Well my boys can handle cleanup duty,” He laughed. “Y’all should be glad you’re not the janitors.” They heard some of his men laugh over the radio. None of the operators found it funny. “Alright, get your men clear of the premises. We don’t need y’all bleeding out all over the floors anymore.” The operators didn’t take too kindly to _that_ one. Glaz could feel his ire beginning to boil.

 

“What about our missing man?” Montange’s voice now joined in, and Glaz could tell he was _mad_. The man was, if anything, protective, and if there was anyone who he cared for most, it was definitely those of team Rainbow. Although, Glaz could say with relative confidence that those feelings were shared amongst all of them. “We aren’t leaving without him.”

 

“You should take this chance now to get your men out,” Johnson said. “I have word that the Masks don’t want to give up this territory.” This made the Rainbow operators pause.

 

However, the glances that Glaz received from Montange and Ash were a mirror of his own.

 

“We’ll get our wounded out,” Montange replied calmly, “But we aren’t leaving without him.”

 

“You do know that me and my men haven’t come across any other masks in the building,” Johnson said rather arrogantly, “I wouldn’t put all your hope into--” His voice was quickly cut off by gunfire. All of the operators stiffened. Ash and Glaz reached for their guns as Montage lifted the radio to his mouth, his eyes widening.

 

“Captain? _Captain!”_ He roared, getting to his feet. No response.They could hear the gunfire and shouting coming from across the building on the first floor. Monty turned to the others. “Glaz, stay here with the wounded! Ash, come with me!” They did as they were told and Glaz, Mute, and Rook watched Ash and Monty bolt out of the room, guns raised.

 

They didn’t bother being quiet. Ash stayed two steps behind Montange, eyes darting around the area. Her thoughts were racing through her mind at a mile a minute.

 

_How did we miss so many? We were so careful._

 

She decided it wasn’t worth mulling over. They had a job to do, and it was part of that job to be able to improvise.

 

As they approached the area, which was a wide open room with a balcony, they saw a full-on firefight happening. Almost fifteen white masks were littering the hallways, their guns ripping into captain Johnson’s squad like paper. They didn’t stand a chance.

 

Ash shouted a curse and moved out from behind Montange’s shield, lighting up two masks who didn’t expect her. Suddenly, shouts erupted from the masks, alerting the others to their presence.

 

Now, Ash began to regret her decision to be so bold.

 

She had only a second to react. Around her, there was no cover. She raised her gun in retaliation, but even before she could pull the trigger, the large, imposing shape of Montange pushed in front of her. She heard heavy metal impacts on his shield from all the bullets he blocked.

 

 _“Move back!”_ Montage roared over the noise. _“Quickly!”_

Ash didn’t hesitate to obey, moving back the way they came, ducking under bullets that flew past her.

 

They came to a stop in the hallway outside where Glaz and the others were. Ash was panting, hard, bent over with her hands on her knees.

 

“Fuck,” She breathed, balling her hands into fists. “They’re all gone, aren’t they? The captain and his men?”

 

“Oui,” Montange replied, sounding out of breath as well. “It’s just us now, until we can call for backup.”

 

“I don’t… I don’t think they can…” The words trailed off. Regaining her composure, she stood up straight, looking up at Montange and lowering her voice. “I don’t know if _they_ will make it.” She made a gesture towards the door where their teammates were.

 

“They will,” Montange said, not meeting her gaze. “They’re strong.”

 

“And what about Jager? We still don’t know where he even _is.”_

 

 _“And we’ll find him!”_ Montange snapped, turning to her with a fiery glare. Ash paused, unintimidated by him. She was more surprised, if anything. It wasn’t often that the older operator lost his cool. He immediately softened, averting his gaze. She could see him already regretting what he did. “I’m sorry, mon ami…”

 

“It’s fine,” She said firmly. “But we have to move. We can’t stay here, they saw where we ran. If we’re stuck here, we’re going to have to find a better place to hold.”

 

Montange nodded, not replying. He moved into the room with the others, with Ash following shortly after.

 

In the break room, Ash came upon a scene that broke her normal calmness ever so slightly. Rook and Glaz were talking  to Mute, although his eyes were barely open and his breathing was ragged. They were obviously trying to stay positive, but she could tell they were losing hope. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought Mute was dead.

 

They looked up as she and Montange approached. Glaz got to his feet and walked up to them, keeping his voice low.

 

Glaz only had to glance at their faces. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Captain’s squad is gone,” Ash replied, mirroring his tone, “We’re on our own.” Glaz closed his eyes and lowered his head, hissing a curse.

 

“How?”

 

“Masks showed up. He was just as surprised as we were.”

 

“What are we going to do about our wounded?” Glaz gestured behind him. This time, Montange answered.

 

“We have to move,” He said, “And quickly. We can’t stay in here, it’s too open. We’ll go to the first floor where we can hunker down and wait for reinforcements.” Glaz gave him a worried gaze, but eventually nodded, turning to Rook and explaining the plan. After he finished, Rook gave him a sad smile.

 

“I’ll take anything other than staying in here some more.”

  


* * *

 

It was slow.

 

Moving as a group down the hallways and stairs was more difficult than it sounded.

 

Montange had Mute at his side, propping him up and helping him walk, while Glaz supported Rook.

 

“One step at a time,” Montange said to Mute, “Stay strong for me, Mark.” He got no response from the younger operator. Montange was surprised Mute was even able to stay upright, although he _was_ holding nearly all of the wounded man’s weight.

 

Ash took point, thoroughly checking every single corner and hallway they came to, ready to blast a terrorist in the face. Surprisingly, and rather worryingly, she still hadn’t come across a White Mask yet, and they were already on the first floor.

 

They came to a small storage room nearby a door to the outside. They decided to stop there, since there was only a window and one door. Only two points of entry.

 

However, it _also_ meant they only had two ways of escaping.

 

They tucked Rook and Mute in the corner away from the door behind a desk, opting to keep them out of the line of fire. As they got them secure, Monty crouched in front of them and held a finger to his lips.

 

“Quiet as a mouse,” He whispered, “Oui?”

 

“Oui...” Rook replied, his voice shaking a bit. He looked scared. Montange didn’t blame him. Mute just looked at him under half-lidded eyes and appeared to try to nod. Rook grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Just focus on breathing, mon ami…”

 

Montange got to his feet and moved over behind their improvised cover, which was a few crates of bottles, papers, and a stray desk. Glaz was crouched behind it while Ash was pushed up against the wall next to the doorway.

 

“I’ve worked with less before,” Glaz muttered as Montange got into position next to him.

 

“But did you have to worry about this many people with you?” Montange asked. Glaz paused for a long time.

 

“No.”

 

“When we get out of here, add this to your list of most dangerous missions.”

 

“How do you know I keep track of that?”  


“Knowing you, I’d be surprised if you _didn’t.”_ Montange could tell he got a smile out of Glaz from the fact that the corners of his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A minute of silence passed before Glaz spoke up again.

 

“We all do,” He said.

 

“Hm?”

 

“The Spetsnaz. We all keep track.”

 

Montange smiled, checking his pistol rounds before sitting still again. They lapsed back into silence once more. _All quiet for now…_

 

After a moment, Ash twitched. She moved from her spot and back behind the barricade, looking spooked.

 

“Did you see anyone?” Montange whispered.

 

“No,” She began, “But someone is on the security cameras.” Monty peeked over his shoulder, a fleeting curiosity passing through his head, but as his eyes settled on his wounded teammates doing nothing other than sitting still, he turned his head back to Ash.

 

“It’s not us,” He confirmed to her, “Did it see you?”

 

“Impossible to tell.”

 

Suddenly, they heard an explosion and the sounds of footsteps. They all tensed, their guns trained on the door and the window.

 

“Yes,” Glaz growled, “I think they saw you.”

 

“Bastards must’ve done their research.”

 

“How long do we have on evac?” Montange asked. His heart sank when Ash swallowed audibly. _Oh, god._

 

“Thirty minutes.”

 

Montange instinctively stole a glance behind him at Rook and Mute. He clenched his jaw when he saw the look on their faces.

 

_Pure fear._

 

Montange felt a new fire light up in his heart as the grip on his pistol tightened, his eyes trained on the doorway, unblinking and unfaltering.

 

_What kind of leader would I be to them if I lost here?_

 

... _A dead one._

 

As soon as the outline of a White Mask darkened the doorway, Montange pulled the trigger. A spray of blood from the side of the terrorist’s head, and his body crumpled to the floor.

 

Then another, and another.

 

Glaz’s rifle was deafening next to his ear, but he didn’t care. The pinpoint shots expertly sliced through the masks as they fell in heaps at the doorway. Their shouts were mere whispers compared to the gunfire that rained down upon them from the operators. Gunfire that was cold, calculated, calm.

 

Montange was subconsciously counting down the minutes by the second. Time dragged on, and more bodies fell. The enemy barely had time to get in any return fire before they were culled.

 

A fleeting thought stepped to the forefront of Montange’s thoughts. It was bold and confident.

 

_Perhaps our luck is beginning to turn._

 

But it was an omen.

 

Montange’s calm trance came to a screeching halt as the outline of something different began to pass through the doorway. The scene seemed to move in slow motion as he stopped himself from pulling the trigger.

 

Although his _own_ body listened to his mind’s warning signals, he couldn’t say the same for the sniper right next to him. The moment he heard the gunshot from the rifle, his voice rang out involuntarily from years of habit and training.

 

_“Friendly fire!”_

 

Another bright spray of blood. As Montange heard the stifled gasp from the Russian, his heart sank to the floor.

 

The man hit by the bullet was different from the masks. That familiar black visored helmet and greenish ballistic vest that was now stained red.

 

_Jäger._

 

Montange’s eyes widened as the pilot fell, dropped from the grasp of a particularly joyous White Mask.

 

“You _shot_ him!” The terrorist teased. It sounded like he was _laughing._ “You’re _insane_ ! You _dogs!_ ”

 

**_Bam._ **

 

The bullet ripped through the terrorist’s mask, right between the eyes, and he began to fall backwards. The shot came from Ash’s gun, but she was already on her feet before his body even hit the ground.

 

Montange heard a pained cry from behind him, and he didn’t even need to look to know it was Rook. He was calling out Jäger’s name.

 

“ _Gilles!”_ Ash cried out, leaning over Jäger and pressing her hand on the gunshot wound to his chest. Her normally calm composure had broken into desperation. “ _Gilles, please, help!”_

 

Montange’s mind was muddled. He could barely think as his body moved on its own over to Ash, reaching for what little medical equipment he still had. It wasn’t much.

 

Ash pulled Jäger’s helmet off. He was gasping for air, his eyes pleading.

 

“Stay with me, Marius!” Ash said, her forearms now covered in blood, “Don’t you _dare_ give out on me!”

 

“I-I ca-an’t—“ Jäger tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. Montange saw the signs of him beginning to slip into shock.

 

“ _Don’t speak!”_ Montange demanded, finding his voice again. He was making a mess of a job, trying to close the wound. As he worked, he instinctively glanced over at Glaz.

 

He looked _horrified_.

 

He was on his knees, his eyes wide, unmoving. His rifle slowly fell from his grip and clattered to the floor. It seemed his body was unwilling to move.

 

The image burned itself into Montange’s mind as he turned back to helping Jäger as best he could.

 

Suddenly, there was the roaring sound of helicopter blades and police sirens. Footsteps began to approach the doorway. Montange turned to look at them as they began to talk to him, pulling him to his feet and dragging Jäger from his grasp, pulling him onto a stretcher. Montange couldn’t tell what they were saying. His mind was a haze and his ears were ringing.

 

He was led out of the building by the men, and he noticed their uniforms were decorated with the same arm patch as his own. _GIGN._

 

His legs felt weak as they exited the building back out into the hot evening sun. He managed a glance behind him and saw Rook and Mute being rushed off by medical personnel. He began to feel an odd sense of calm wash over him.

 

Then his head felt light, and his eyes darkened, his legs giving out from under him. The last thing he remembered was someone trying to catch him as he fell face-first into the dirt.

 


End file.
